


you smell like the devil (you feel like the lord)

by bilexualclarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, these two just cant stay away from each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilexualclarke/pseuds/bilexualclarke
Summary: This is the part where he pushes her away. This is the part where he tells her that she has to move on, where if he’s cold enough to her she’ll eventually leave on her own, which will hurt more than anything else. This is the part where he makes her hate him with his sad attempt to undo the damage that loving her caused.Instead, he lets her nuzzle under his chin, lets her press a soft kiss to his Adam’s apple and wind her arms around his waist. He lets himself enjoy the barely-there kisses she leaves up his jawline, lets himself shudder when she takes his earlobe between her teeth and gives it a teasing tug.She pauses after that, and the room is still. Nothing exists except for her warm breath against his neck and the heat of his hand that has traveled to the small of her back.She knows she’s won when he finally says it, the rough timbre of his voice lighting a flame low in her belly.“Baby…”alternate ending to ch.13 ofTraining Wheels





	you smell like the devil (you feel like the lord)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betts/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Training Wheels](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759888) by [betts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betts/pseuds/betts). 



> first of all, thank you to betts for creating the best fic in the world, and for allowing me to create my own work for it. i truly hope you like it.
> 
> second, let me preface this by saying that I have received no spoilers regarding the rest of the fic, this is just my own version of Bellamy and Clarke's post-funeral conversation. 
> 
> third, you can still read this if you haven't read Training Wheels, but also...fucking read Training Wheels.

_“What, you’re telling me you haven’t been with anyone this entire year? Sought comfort in someone just because they offered it?”_

_She looks him in the eye and says, “I haven’t been with anyone this entire year. I only love you. I only want to love you.”_

 

Bellamy’s jaw tightens. The muscle in his right cheek pops. It’s not the answer that he expected, but it’s the one that part of him hoped for.  

 

"No one?” he says slowly.

 

Clarke straightens up, recognizing the subtle change in his voice. “There’s been no one else,” she says. “There could never be anyone else.”

 

 

“There should be,” he tells her, but he doesn’t back away when her feet take her forward. “There’s supposed to be.”

 

“I know you think I’m going to move on and move far away, going to forget about you and fall in love with other people, but you’re _wrong_ , Bellamy.” She is directly in front of him now, brave enough to rest her hands on his broad chest. They tremble slightly. She is unsure if it is from nerves or her excitement, a product of the small spark of hope that him even allowing this conversation gives her.

 

“There’s never going to be anyone but you.”

 

Bellamy squeezes his eyes shut and sighs, unable to control his hands as they come up to cup her face. “Goddamn it, Clarke.”

 

This is the part where he pushes her away. This is the part where he tells her that she has to move on, where if he’s cold enough to her she’ll eventually leave on her own, which will hurt more than anything else. This is the part where he makes her hate him with his sad attempt to undo the damage that loving her caused.

 

Instead, he lets her nuzzle under his chin, lets her press a soft kiss to his Adam’s apple and wind her arms around his waist. He lets himself enjoy the barely-there kisses she leaves up his jawline, lets himself shudder when she takes his earlobe between her teeth and gives it a teasing tug.

 

She pauses after that, and the room is still. Nothing exists except for her warm breath against his neck and the heat of his hand that has traveled to the small of her back.

 

She knows she’s won when he finally says it, the rough timbre of his voice lighting a flame low in her belly.

 

“ _Baby_ …”

 

Clarke smiles into the skin of his neck. Her feet are aching with the effort of standing on her tiptoes, but she is scared that if she draws back he will take the opportunity to pull away.

 

“I want you to fuck me again,” she murmurs. His fingers spasm on her lower back. “Don’t you want to? Don’t you miss it?”

 

“’Course I do,” he whispers, his voice ragged. He runs a finger up and down the length of her spine. “All the time.”

 

She pulls back now, places a hand on either side of his neck to keep him close while she looks up at him. “Please, Bellamy.” She is surprised by how her lower lip trembles on its own accord, caught off guard by the sudden tears pricking at her eyes. “I need it.”

 

At her words, his eyes darken. “You need it?” He licks his lips. “Need what, baby?”

 

“Need you.” Clarke cranes her head towards him, desperate for a kiss. Before she can reach him, he raises two fingers to her lips to stop her. She whimpers against them as he slowly draws her lower lip down, exposing her teeth.

 

“Such a pretty little mouth,” he says to himself. He doesn’t stop her when her tongue sneaks out to graze his fingertips, doesn’t stop her when she sucks them into her mouth. A growl reverberates through his chest as she teases her tongue over the digits, the same exploratory movements she used on his cock the first time he gave it to her.

 

Bellamy pulls her flush against his chest, her body pressed fully against his. She can feel the hard length of his cock along her thigh, nearly cries out at the sensation of it. _Was he always this big? How did she fit all of him inside of her?_ She hasn’t been this close to him in over a year and it’s driving her insane. Her cunt aches for him.

 

He pulls his fingers from her mouth with a _pop_ and she takes the opportunity to beg again. “Please, Bellamy, it hurts. Every time I think about you it hurts. I need you to make it better.”

 

“Where does it hurt, baby?”

 

“Right here,” she whispers, taking his hand and guiding it between her thighs. She wears thin black stockings under her dress, a flimsy barrier keeping him from the part of her she so desperately needs him to touch. He cups her heat with his large hand and she wonders if he can feel how wet she is through the fabric.

 

“This where it hurts?” When she nods he hums sympathetically, pressing a kiss to her forehead as his fingers find her clit and starts to rub her through the stockings. He remembers exactly how to touch her— _as if he could ever forget_ —and she is almost embarrassed at how quickly her knees start to tremble.

 

“God, Clarke, I can fucking smell you,” Bellamy groans, hiding his face in the crook of her shoulder as she rides his hand, biting at her neck.

 

Suddenly, before she can come, he grabs her around the waist and tosses her down onto his bed. He crawls over her, rucking up the skirt of her dress and ripping her stockings, the thin fabric tearing right over her crotch. Her thighs are spread open, pressed apart by his broad shoulders as he shoves her underwear to the side and groans at the sight of her beautiful cunt: her lips red and puffy, her clit swollen with arousal. Her opening is shiny with her slick and he can see some of it staining her thighs. The crotch of her panties is stained with it, too. He can’t stop himself from pressing his nose to the damp fabric, relishing in her heady scent. God, he’s missed it.

 

Without warning, he rips them off. She gasps as the elastic snaps and her cunt clenches down on nothing. It reminds her of the first time he touched her like this, right on the very same bed.

 

He licks his lips as more arousal seeps out of her, shoving the panties into his back pocket, a memento for when he has to let her go again. It will hurt worse this time, he knows that. She’ll hate him even worse for letting her in again just to push her away. But he has to do it, for her own good.

 

“Please lick me,” Clarke whimpers, arching her hips toward his face. Bellamy’s response is a smirk. He teases her, barely letting his tongue graze her folds. But eventually he gives in, the taste of her making his cheeks ache, and he needs more.

 

He licks a long line up her slit, catching her arousal on his tongue and letting it wash over his molars. Then he focuses on her clit, letting his tongue caress the swollen nub before he wraps his lips around it and sucks.

 

It takes everything she has not to cry out as he works on her. When Bellamy glances up at her he can see that she is propped up on her elbows, watching him. Her face is flushed, a flyaway curl stuck to her sweaty temple. There is a thin crease between her eyebrows, her mouth forming a perfect O as he abuses her clit.

 

 _Sweet girl, being so good for him_.

 

It is when he uses his thumbs to spread her open and spit on her cunt that she squeaks in surprise, and in a whisper she begs for him to do it again.

_Spit on me. Make me dirty. Make me yours._

 

“Filthy girl,” Bellamy says fondly.

 

He spits on her again and then uses his tongue to spread the saliva around her opening. He slips two fingers inside her easily and she collapses back onto the pillows. Her thighs start to tremble when he curls those digits inside of her and she reaches down to pull at his hair, bringing him impossibly closer. He hollows his cheeks and sucks hard around her clit, and that’s what does her in. She tries to push him away, but he keeps her close, and she is barely able to roll into the pillows to scream as she comes.  

 

Her cum stains his mouth, his chin, the collar of his shirt. _Fuck_ , he’s missed the mess she makes.

 

She is still pulsing around his fingers when he stands up, quickly undoing his pants and releasing his cock. With the hand still wet with her cum he strokes himself, and the other he uses to wedge between her legs and tease her sensitive clit. She is still a trembling mess when he forces himself between her legs and presses inside of her.

 

“Oh…” Clarke gasps, her hands grasping at his biceps as he looms over her. Her walls are so tight around him that he can barely get halfway inside, so impossibly warm and wet that he has to grit his teeth and breath through his nose so that he doesn’t end this too soon.

 

She lets out a low moan that he silences with his kiss, the first kiss they’ve shared in over a year. She licks the taste of herself off his tongue as he presses the rest of the way inside of her.

 

“This what you needed?” he growls, pulling back and snapping his hips against hers. “You needed my cock inside you?”

 

“Yes,” she moans, her hands trailing down his back to his hips, pulling him closer. “I needed your cock. I needed you.”

 

“No one else is gonna have you the way I do,” Bellamy says before he can stop himself. The words spill out on their own accord. “You hear me, baby? No one else is gonna fuck you the way you need, the way you deserve. No one but me.”

 

He has no idea why he says it. Everything he is doing is just making it harder for them, harder for her to let him go. But it’s the part of him that doesn’t want to let her go that is in control right now, that part that wants to make her his in the same way that he is hers. The part that wants to keep her here with him forever, fighting and fucking and loving each other the way he’s only ever experienced with her.

 

“No one but you,” she repeats brokenly, her breath hitching. “I love you, Bellamy. God, I love you so much.” She’s crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks as he pounds her into the mattress.

 

“I love you, too, baby,” he groans. “Love you more than anything. Missed you so fucking much.”

 

He can feel his orgasm building but he needs her to come again, can’t even entertain the thought of not being able to feel her come on his cock one last time.

 

Bellamy rolls back and sits on his heels, bringing her with him onto his lap. She drapes her arms over his shoulders and collapses against his chest, letting him guide her up and down on his cock. Between moans, she presses hot, open-mouthed kisses up his neck and along the length of his jaw. He is deeper inside of her than he has ever been before, and Clarke doesn’t know if she’ll ever get enough of this feeling, doesn’t know how she’ll be able to go on without feeling this full all the time.

 

He grabs a fistful of her hair and tips her head back, forcing their eyes to meet.

 

“Come,” he commands, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. “Come all over me, baby. Give it to me.”

 

Her cries are swallowed by him as she shudders with her release, and he lets the spasms of her cunt draw out his own orgasm. He holds her close as they come down together, squeezes his eyes shut to ward off the tears that come with the crushing feeling of guilt crashing down on him. Gently, he lowers her back down against the mattress. She groans in protest when he pulls out, lazily grabbing at him, trying to pull him closer once more.

 

“Come back,” she says playfully. The hope in her voice, the levity of her tone that he hasn’t heard in months, makes him feel like a goddamn monster.

 

“Let me look at you,” Bellamy says softly, grateful that his voice doesn’t crack. _Let me look at you one last time._

 

She’s a fucked-out mess, her dress rucked up and stockings split down the crotch. His cum leaks out of her, a little more seeping out each time she shivers with another aftershock. One look at the crotch of his own pants can tell him that they are totally ruined, stained by her juices. He can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching her, smearing his cum over her flushed cunt. She whimpers, oversensitive, but her hips chase his touch regardless.

 

Suddenly, the door swings open.

 

“Bellamy, there’s someone here for you- _Oh my God_.”

 

Echo stares at them, eyes wide and mouth agape. Time stops as she studies them. Her gaze rakes over Clarke and her jaw tightens before she looks to Bellamy. She glares at him for a long, horrifying moment.

 

Then she opens her mouth and the yelling starts.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr as "bilexualclarke". let's talk.


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